


Witch Inkwell?

by An_Ephemeral_Walk



Series: Inkwell spill [2]
Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, And genderbent, But also, Did i say human? i meant witches were technically human once, Gen, Human AU, I know i said not all of these would be like the first in the series, Other, Thar be witches, but with witches, like mageverse, something witchy this way comes, this too is a genderbent, witchverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Ephemeral_Walk/pseuds/An_Ephemeral_Walk
Summary: Yet another part to the series that has so many stray pieces it's like there was a spill.Witches, common in the world, all over the place. From the speedy lantern witch who delivers mail to the elusive mirror witch who is willing to face jail time if it means stabbing the next person to joke about using their mirror to fix their appearance.One such witch, a summoner who's been around far longer than she cares to let anyone know, has done things in those years. What decent witch hasn't? But that doesn't mean much in the face of greedy souls wanting to garner the attention of someone they really shouldn't mess with.
Relationships: The Devil/King Dice (Cuphead)
Series: Inkwell spill [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1526519
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Witch Inkwell?

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: I will be deleting all but the first chapter. All tags will be corrected and this will remain a tentative oneshot. So, read them other chapters while you can i guess? I wanted to do more and write more, but the energy isn't there, so it will be continued in private. Noir will not be affected by this. Thank you.

Circles were important in Queen’s line of work. Just about vital if she wanted to be dramatic about it. If she didn’t want to find herself shredded to pieces or dragged into whatever hovel the thing before her came from, she needed the circle to be perfect. And of course, it was. She wasn’t a novice anymore, hadn’t been for a time longer than she’d ever tell. The guest, heeding her rules and staying at her side rather than rushing forward as the subtle sway belied, let out a soft noise of astonishment. The creature in the circle blinked its several eyes at them, at her, curious. She laid out the offer, the request, never wording it as an order. As countless times before, it perked up by the middle of her little speech, and was nodding enthusiastically, snapping a piece of its bark off and sliding it forward towards the other in the room, the reason for her doing the call.

A fingernail clipped off later, the forest entity was shrinking down to a far more manageable size, as compared to its towering stance before. Queen broke the circle, the creature nodded politely to her, and the two were off. The payment was left on the table by Queen’s left.

Alone, she brushed the chalk dust off her cloak, until ultimately deciding the golden dust wasn’t going to come off anytime soon and so she just removed the cloak. Her home wasn’t inherently massive, so it wasn’t a hassle to walk around the circle and hang the old outfit up on a rack in the corner. She had runes from an old wood witch friend of hers that allowed those she called to be whatever size they chose in regards to height. If she needed a wider circle, somehow there was always enough space, but she hadn’t seen that witch in a while.

She had the money to get a far larger home, but the silly sentimental part of her refused to leave her first home. The first place to see her settle down. Besides, her magic saturated the entire patch of land it sat on, thick and charged with her presence, cooing for her to remain. So there she stayed, at least until she needed to go find ingredients or treats to go along with her work.

Sliding on an apron, not wanting to get her gown dirty, she held a hand under another, smaller circle, and—after ensuring her gloves were properly adjusted, took the sponge that fell from the storage space and got to work. It was her home, and she wasn’t going to let it turn wallow in any level of filth. The windows opened themselves, spilling bright sunlight onto the clean dark floors, the breeze perfect for airing out the ozone left by calling something from another plane.

Summoning was a beast few witches could handle. It wasn’t rare to find a summoner of course, but it was uncommon. Witches that could not only call upon the soul like necromancers could, but the body as well, both together from distant worlds none had ever seen aside from the mirror witches if they were inventive enough. A feat not many with magic had the aptitude and mindset for. It wasn’t that the other witches were weaker in magic, far from it. A thread witch had made her the deep violet cloak dripping chalky water from its self-cleaning silks. The thing could withstand everything from the angriest manticore to the sharpest serpents bite.

The wood witch had made her home welcome only to her and friendly guests. The last unwanted guest to enter her home had been reduced to a pile of meat she’d ultimately given to the next summon. Fire couldn’t catch hold, floods made it rise onto sturdy stilts, high winds made it hunker down into the cloud of her own magic where no wind could tear it apart. There were several other witches that Queen would point to when asked who was stronger. Like her old mirror witch friend, though it had been a good decade since she’d seen the other. But summoners weren’t something to scoff at, no witch really was. Healing witches could rip a soul straight from deaths hands before the soul even knew it had been removed from its mortal shell. Elemental witches could stand in tempests and infernos and tornados and earthquakes and not even notice the fury around them.

She herself could reach into the void itself, her magic slipping into the depths like a hand into a glove, stretching thin wispy fingers for things who would be amiable to her beckoning. Lantern witches could even go a step further, lighting a path into the void and stepping back out wherever they pleased. The postal services tended to be filled exclusively with lantern witches for that reason.

Floor clean, apron removed, Queen looked around, mental list springing to the front of her mind, reminding her of the things she had to do. It was still midday, and a while ago she would have lit her stove and started on a lunch. Now though, she started it only to warm the space on colder days. She didn’t have another guest scheduled for at least a few hours, and so, giving herself a glance in her mirror, she figured the best thing to do would be to relax and read up on what the next guest wanted. She kicked her stocking-clad feet up, sinking into the thick cushions of her armchair, pulled the schedule from one circle and a book from another.

***

Two people entered her home, a shorter woman and a stout man. Queen was already in her cloak, water heating on her stove on the off chance they wanted tea. Both smelt of blood and nervous tension, but the home hadn’t stomped them into a paste, so they weren’t a threat to her, not yet at least. The woman greeted her with a quick bow, the man nodded politely. Their request had been vague, but not enough to make Queen refuse the request.

“Thank you for seeing us, we won’t take up more of your time than we need to.” The woman had a wobble in her tone, nervous and hopeful to a degree that she couldn’t hide it any more than her dark coat could hide her wringing hands and tapping toe. Queen just nodded, resting her hip on the counter edge.

“We’ve need of a summoner, all our previous attempts failed and we’re desperate now.” The man had an odd nasal note to his voice, one Queen found unpleasant, not that her face showed any hint of displeasure, neutral as it was. People with little to no magic could indeed try all the things witches could do naturally, whether the thing worked or not was always debatable. And what someone would thing was summoning—at least in her experience—was someone trying to call up an entity, not realizing getting the soul _and_ the body was far more difficult to the point of being impossible for many. If the calling only resulted in the soul, it was more necromancy than it was summoning, and if it was just the body, that was more the lantern or mirror style, not summoning.

So already she knew these people were likely aiming for a spirit of some sort. Nothing she hadn’t handled before, and thus, she was still content to listen.

“We’ve been trying to summon a very specific creature, but she refuses to answer our calls! We were hoping you’d be able to call her up in our stead? We’ve got the circle and space and offerings all set up not too far from here, but there’s more of us, we’re part of a group you see.” The man paused, and the woman took over again.

“Please, we’re starting to think she won’t ever answer and we’re desperate. We’ve got plenty to pay you with too!” Queen held her hand up, and they fell silent.

“Let me get a few things, and lead me to the place you’d like to use.” A pair of earrings made from the same wood as her home, engraved with runes none but a wood witch would see, a small bag with chalk and other basic items in it, including a special sort of chalk she rarely used mixed with special salt, and she was following behind them. At first, of her own accord. Their bumbling around proved the perfect cover for the others who came up behind her. Then she was being hauled off her feet, blindfolded, a collar of isolation was being tied around her throat, locking her magic out, and she was unconscious after one hefty blow to her head.

***

“She doesn’t look like much. Are we sure she’s the one?”

“It was far too easy, there’s no way someone like her escaped our lord.”

Queen didn’t groan so much as just open her eyes and start plotting murder. A cave, candles everywhere making the room sweltering, and a ringing in her ears as her magic readjusted itself. They didn’t stop her from sitting up, nor did they stop her from looking around. Surrounded by ten people, each with a dagger in hand, she could easily guess why. That’s not what affected her most. Nor was it the fact that she could feel the collar around her neck. It was the thing that was painted in blood before her that locked her chest out of its habitual breathing motion. Her vision blurring wasn’t a result of the attack earlier, her magic having no issues with tossing aside the notion that her once flesh and bone skull would have been in searing pain.

The words were shoddily done, the lines were thick and unprofessional. A novice summoner could do better in their sleep. But she’d recognize the sigils and incantations anywhere.

“They say she is appeased by sacrifices, but we’ve done that and she isn’t answering.” One spoke, the shorter woman. Queen’s gloved nails dug into the rock beneath her, fury and fear warring within her

“The book makeS note of a summoner centuries ago calling upon her. It say she escaped punishment for her arrogance and pride, that our lord cannot refuse the call of a summoner because she’s looking for the one who got away.” The man who still stood beside the woman continued.

“Fix the circle to your liking, and get to it.” A third, a hefty, burly woman whose voice made the rock under Queen rumble spoke. “Try to escape and we flay your flesh and offer bits of you to her. We want to know what will appease her and get her to answer our pleas.” She finished, and a few stepped forward threateningly. Queen seethed, mind racing to figure out how she could get out of doing as they wanted. Moving only when one of them began approaching her in earnest, ill intent clear. She dragged a piece of golden chalk free from her pouch, getting to work on cleaning up the lines.

As she fixed the interior, she furiously wondered just what book they were talking about. She staunchly kept any thoughts of her home from her mind, of the familiar who would need time to set up properly. Who she didn’t want anywhere near the circle, and the one who would inevitably answer. Part of her hoped the one they wanted would have forgotten about her. Time healed wounds they said, perhaps it soothed insults too? It was a weak hope, but one none the less. Carefully she followed the blood lines, all too aware they’d see any attempts to reword some of the statements. There’d be no swapping to a different unholy beast, and she didn’t fancy getting clubbed upside the head again. Nor was she fond of any idea that their next method would just be tossing her into the center of the blood circle and hoping that would work as an enticement.

As she did so, she began to think of all the other things that could be summoned who would gladly give the same things as the one they desired. A fleeting hope that perhaps they didn’t understand just how many options they had rose in her chest. It had happened before after all. Those unfamiliar with the countless creatures at the fingertips of witches whos calls could echo out through the void into innumerable universes.

The circle was crackling with gold green magic already. Deep violet twisted along the golden lines, infusing the chalk to the ground, making it immune to breakage of any kind. A wet thwap made her jolt, the smooth line sharply shooting to one side. A rotting goat head, flesh crudely carved from the blood-stained bones stared at her. Then a cat, long dead with a deformed skull indicating the choice of murder, dropped on the other side of the goat. Both within what amounted to the offering circles. A bowl was being held under the slit wrist of the shorter woman, collecting crimson drops.

Queen stepped out of the danger zone after fixing the error, triple checking around the circle for any flaws. They didn’t stop her, instead placing the bowl in the third offering circle, and then all attention was on her.

“If it’s a wish you want granted, a Djinn would serve you better.” Queen tried, stuffing the chalk back into her pouch. They didn’t respond, one gave a growl. “A dream entity?” She tried again, flipping through her mental catalogue for what they might want and what else could give it. Anything that could prevent the summon.

“Just do as you’ve been told and we’ll let you leave unharmed.” The leader, the short woman, couldn’t have sounded less reassuring if she’d tried. The air began to take on a heavy quality, dense pressure making many shudder. Queen’s eye’s, alight with more than just undiluted ire now, pulled away from those surrounding her with blades drawn and fists clenched. A pair stepped forward, another who’d been behind her got close enough their body heat radiated onto her. They grabbed her hair, yanking her head back and shoving a blade right against her collar bone, the threat impossibly clear. She winced, reaching to fight back, only for her wrists to be grabbed. Finally, she gave in. At the rate they were going, the one she was going to call would be preferable.

“ _Oh darling,”_ She called out, latin rolling delicately off her tongue, her voice shook, but she figured the one being called would only find it amusing. The circle began to crackle, light growing brighter as her magic read the desires in the circle and blood and carried them. Summoners didn’t invite entities. None who wanted to survive for long that is. Possessions were things of nightmares for anyone, magic or no. Instead, they enticed. A coo, a purr, a delicate gesture to answer a simple request. Offerings to sweeten the deal, blood full of intent to direct the summon to the one with the desires, and few summons ever came back empty handed. The blood was Queens saving grace, and she poured the joy she felt in knowing they had done what they’d likely seen other clients of summoners do, into her voice.

“ _My darling, how long it’s been. Won’t you say hello?”_ She continued, voice pure and clear in the cave, an ethereal aura to the sound in the echoing chambers. To answer, something she’d deeply hoped wouldn’t happen, a fire sparked in the center. The candles outside the circle flickered, the light frightened by the presence beginning to fill the area. But they didn’t go out, the circle preventing anything from escaping. Yet shadows still grew within the circle, bleeding over the lines, devouring the offerings greedily, lapping at the edge of the circle teasingly. They let go of her then, but stayed close, refusing to give her any escape route.

Queen knelt, balancing on the balls of her feet and tilting her head just the slightest, ignoring the ecstatic whispers behind her. A vulnerable pose she utilized in less than pleasant scenarios.

“ _Quite the flair you’ve kept.”_ She knew the one in the depths of the shadows could hear the edge to her voice, the line of tension she frankly didn’t feel like hiding, not when she needed it. A deep, rolling chuckle slipped out from the circle, and two bright red-orange eyes opened in the center. Queen’s magic cooed, demurely pressing against the far more oppressive magic.

A wash of heavy magic blanketed the room, given the ability by her own allowing it. The morons she loathed staggered, some falling dangerously close to the circle. She didn’t take her eyes from the two, then four, then six, within the circle. The thick smell of ozone mixed with brimstone, fire, and a smell like everything in the universe was burning swept over the area. Coppery rot underlying the rest, making a couple gag.

An arm, lanky and sinewy, covered in rough grey flesh rose from the shadowed floor. Then another, palms dipping back in, catching to the rock instead of falling back into the shadows fully. Hair, thick, wild and curly atop a head, joined by horns growing taller as the figure pulled herself out of the gate. Thin lips split apart in a far too wide grin, teeth yellow and stained with the coppery life flowing through the veins of all but Queen and the one who didn’t belong. A sloped nose, the thing splitting the eyes apart, cheeks not hindering the lowest set of eyes in the least from peering eagerly at her, soaking in Queen’s appearance. Pointed ears flicked, the only sign the one in the center was aware of anything but the one who called to her so enticingly.

Taller than all in the room, hair spilling in a void black curtain down to bare feet, flickers and flashes of red within the pitch dark depths, amusement dripping from every inch of the thing in the circle.

“Couldn’t stay away hm?” Her voice, a low alto, filled everything, down to the very thoughts of those around the circle. Some reverently spoke what name they believed suited her.

“It wasn’t by choice.” Queen replied, baring her throat. Cat like pupils dilated, a visible shudder of something none but one could understand at the sight of the circle locking away all but her own magic. Had she been a lantern or mirror witch, she’d have escaped by now. But she wasn’t, her magic couldn’t ferry her away to safety, nor did she have any specific summons that would answer her cries. She’d never liked the idea of having such a binding like many of the other summoners she knew. Now she wished she’d kept even one aside from her darling familiar close to her soul. That phoenix she’d been wonderful friends with would have made mincemeat out of the group long before they would have gotten her to the cavern.

A grey hand reached out to her, beckoning, but nowhere as enticing as her magic. Queen instead stood to her feet, and shifted back, finally taking her eyes from the other to look at the one who’d sealed their fate. She bumped into the one behind her, but it was only the one in the circle that saw the flash of vile hatred in acidic eyes.

“But this isn’t about me, _my darling._ ”

“Oh ruler of sin, king of Hell, please hear our request!” The woman’s voice shook, and if Queen had cared, if she’d been with a different client with a different summon, she’d have reassured the woman. She’d have teased her gently, and the summon, always friendly or amiable would do its best to appear less threatening. The beastly woman in the center did no such thing. Even in a ratty gown that hung more like a robe from her bony frame, the beast was no less horrifying than the leviathan Queen had once summoned.

None focused on Queen, two eyes continued to watch her, but the rest turned to the woman. Gone was the glimpse of a maliciously nasty but amused grin. In its place, the womans lips pursed into a flat line.

“I’ve heard them.” She spoke slowly, like one who was fed up but not enough to snap. “I just don’t care to listen to someone who showers me with dead animals and an infant of all things.” There was an icy quality to her voice. One that made the group recoil.

“Our deepest apologies, but we were only following the book!”

Queen inwardly demanded the woman show it so she could get a fae on destroying every single copy in the world. But the woman ignored her, and the two eyes squint in twisted bemusement. Shadows lapped at the edge of the circle, thousands of fingers tapping feather soft against the magic, testing it, finding not a single fault, but trying all the same. Queen would rather have summoned a hundred Djinns, a thousand Leviathans, ten thousand of those annoying dust sprites, than the one taking glee in the situation.

“It pointed us to this one.” The one behind her spoke, clearly taking bravado in having her as a shield. He gripped her shoulder tightly. If she’d had true flesh and blood it would have been bruising within seconds. Even without that, it made her wince, her nails digging through her gloves into her palms, biting into the skin. The two eyes focused on her dilated, and Queen began begging her dear familiar to hurry.

“We are but foolish mortals, we’ve no way of knowing what will appease you. We have desires and requests but we want most to show you our adoration!” The woman took back the focus, a sharp, stern look at the corner of her eyes directed at the man. The Beast gave the woman a dead stare lacking any care.

“You are foolish.” She didn’t offer them any openings, but to them, it only meant she was still open to their requests. The pressure in the air was getting heavier, a few were audibly breathing deep raspy breaths. Lungs forcing ribs away, straining to continue what they’d always done in the inhospitable cave. 

“We—”

“What makes you think I’d have any use for infants?” Even for those that hadn’t blinked, it was as if the one in the center had warped right to the edge. The chalk and blood below her dirt and soot stained feet crackled. Queen tried shifting down and away, hopeful that the motion would be enough to distract them. To a degree, it worked. He let go of her, but she only wound up stumbling into the one to her right. They sneered at her, a hateful gleam in their eyes for daring to make them look away from their beloved entity.

“We… The soul?” The woman squirmed under the intense stare of wide, unblinking eyes. Eyes that curved to crescents with vitriolic amusement.

“Useless to me. What can a soul trapped as an infant do besides scream and wail? And the animals? You don’t leave the corpse for me to eat, but you expect me to find value in something you easily carved apart?”

“Please forgive our ignorance, we’ll never do it again.” The woman’s hands clenched the front of her cloak, crinkling the thick wool. “There are accounts that those who are untouched…” She drifted off, aware her attempt to find what else they’d been sure was useful knowledge being less than useless was blatant. Her attention went to the summoner for a moment, enough that eerily arctic green eyes, cold and apathetic like a true emerald snapped her direction in clear warning.

“Simpering and annoying. I stick them with the infants.” The one in the center answered, and if Queen had been on the moron’s side, she’d have slapped a hand over the woman’s mouth and would be directing the conversation to the request only.

She wasn’t on their side.

She said nothing.

“I don’t give freely.” The beast seemed to read her mind, or find little enjoyment at the bumbling in front of her. “If you want, you have to be willing to lose something in return.”

“O-of course!”

There were several caveats to summoning something such as the one in the center. Normally, nothing could be done from the summon while in the circle, the magic always enforcing a strict no cross rule for any and everything. A forest spirit couldn’t use an oak outside the circle to break them free and wreak havoc, it wouldn’t pass the barrier. They could try all they wanted, and Queen had seem some creative sorts. But if they received no permission from the summoner, they were out of luck.

The one now grinning, a lone eye still on Queen still quirked in a slit crescent, as if sharing a joke with her, had alternative methods.

One such method who prowled into the light. A hellish feline with voids for eyes and patchy fur that looked quite a bit like the fur on the offering. It descended on the one closest to it, shredding into their robe, then their flesh. They toppled over, screaming and squealing like a pig being slaughtered. Those closest matched the scream with panicked ones of their own, nearly tripping over themselves to get away. The one to the left of Queen snapped a hand out, gripping her upper arm with enough force to make her cringe and dig at their skin with her gloved nails, gritting her teeth to suppress the pained noise. If she thought Queen had anything to do with the cat, she showed it via desperate, confused glare. Queen ignored her, wanting nothing but for that hand to be off her.

Well, more accurately she wanted the collar off. But the most pressing issue wasn’t the thing suppressing her only escape route, the thing that would have carried her away by now. It was the far too tight grip on her arm.

The cat pulled back up, teeth the size of a human skull dripping rich crimson. It yowled, tearing upwards and launching back down at the next victim.

“My Lord! Please! Call off your beast!” The woman cried. The sneering grin grew further still, splitting the beasts face in half as more screams and the sounds of a corpses lungs expelling air that never made it to the scream.

“Ah? I’m showing you though.” Closer still to the barrier, heeding the displeased hum that burst out from the summoners magic, the beast would have pressed her palms to the wall like barrier had she not known it would only result in a less than pleasant response. “I’ve answered your call, a desire of yours. I’m simply taking my payment for it.”

Another fell, the third victim. By now, the figurative lambs had scrambled together, all but the one gripping Queen’s arm and the one directly behind her. Queen hoped the cat came for her next, if only so she could duck and lose one of them. With no focus on her, she’d have hoped she could escape by now, but the hold was too strong, and none were actively paying any hostile attention to her.

Once the third victim ceased all movement, the cat vanished, disappearing as quickly as it had come. Some looked to the entrance of the cave, escape on their minds. And yet, Queen counted one extra person amongst the panicked crowd, and her struggles to escape returned with a vengeance.

“Now, what was that you desired?” The tone was a purr, the volume was a sultry slide of self-satisfaction. The woman, chest heaving with fear-laced sobs, shakily stumbled over words none could understand. But now the one in the center was focused, she was _amused._

“Riches are common.” The beast started, shadows lapping at ankles, toying with the gold band wrapped an inch above the top of her right foot. “Power comes next, and it isn’t just political.” Her head began to tilt, neck bones cracking loudly with the motion. “Perhaps you desire a soul trapped in my realm? Defying death is no trouble for me, perhaps immortality?”

The woman nodded weakly, teeth chattering from the force of her fear. The man beside her clung to her upper arms, offering little in the way of comfort. To Queen it appeared more that he was ready to throw the woman at the circle to buy himself a precious second or three to escape. But Queen caught sight of gold hair peeking from the deep shadows of the cloak, and no mortal would move fast enough for that one to miss.

“Your blood was vague, didn’t you give your dear summoner some direction? Giving all of that to you would be expensive, far too expensive given the current state of things.”

Queen paused a moment in her frenzy to escape to give the one in the middle a rather unimpressed half-lidded stare. The woman glanced at her, then shook her head sharply.

Hands, more than the two that had been visible, smashed against the barrier. The woman shrieked, toppling onto her rear at the undiluted fury sloughing off her once beloved lord.

 **“Don’t waste my time you filthy waste of energy!”** The voice was a roar, the volume enough to make everyone slam their hands over their ears aside from the summoner. The barrier held, snapping painful lightning down the three extra sets of arms, but the one in the center shook it off, face twisted in an ugly mask of loathing. One of the others wailed as a talon sank into their leg, dragging the person back and into the shadows Their screams were cut off after a heavy crunch interrupted a piercing, inhuman screech of agony. Then, a breath later, the corpse was dropped into the light of the dying candles, face a mottled mess of melting flesh as acid dissolved through into the bone. The body continued to twitch, the eye still remaining rolled to the back of the skull. Wet gurgles same as from the corpse on the other side spilled from the distorted remains of a mouth and throat. There was no lower half.

The one beside Queen threw up, the one behind her made no noise. Queen didn’t bother turning around, she didn’t have to worry anymore.

“Wealth!” The woman yelled, her upper body rocking heavily under the force she put into the shout. “Wealth enough that power comes easy. That we can hire any necromancer we wish to bring back the dead. Enough riches we can bathe in it, swim in it!” She rambled, and fiery red met frigid green.

“There, was that so hard?” A purr again, lilting and soft, almost friendly.

The ground cracked, the shadows under the womans bare feet vanished. Queen remained frozen, unaffected by the panicked woman making her arm go numb.

“Easy as could be, but… That isn’t what your blood said. Are you sure?” Hair fell with the head tilt, a curtain of ink black no light was getting through. The beast looked down at the traumatized woman, six eyes unblinking in their focus.

“I…Yes?”

The candles blew out. Queen shifted her focus from the fingers around her arm to the wrist, sharply digging into the tendons below until the woman let go with a pain filled howl. She was shoved, colliding with hard, muscled flesh clothed in tweed. Large hands with cigar stained fingers coiled around her hip and face, a low coo rumbling from the solid chest. The one who’d left heavy prints on Queen’s arm threw herself back, having not expected someone who hadn’t been there before to be in the place of her partner.

The ground gave out, and the first to fall was the man who’d been closest to the leader. He went down without a noise. The molten sea of gold below splashed as he hit, and the immediate burst of steam went from white to red impressively fast. It was then, as liquid gold seared into his flesh, that he screamed. Two that sprint for the exit got exactly ten paces before holes appeared in their foreheads, spraying all manner of gore across the floor. Despite the new lack of a brain, when their bodies fell into the pool, they screamed all the same. A ghostly wail adding to the cacophony. The torn bodies of the other victims acted much the same, reacting as if alive upon hitting the gold.

Soon none were left but for the catatonic leader staring down at her partner. In the untouched circle, ever defiant of the magic outside its barrier, the centerpiece of the room laughed malevolently. Wild cackles pouring like water from her unnatural maw. A thumb rubbed the flesh above Queen’s hipbone, taunting the unmoving captive. Then, the woman fell in as well, into enough wealth to bathe in for an unspecified amount of time, and all that was left was the extra, the one behind Queen, and Queen herself. The floor returned, no longer drawn away by Hell itself answering outside calls. Still, the circle remained unaffected.

“Needlessly dramatic.” Queen spoke in the ensuing silence, shoving as much disdain into her voice as she could.

“Aw, but that’s how Ms. Devil is!” The extra replied, throwing off the borrowed cloak.

“You’d know better if ya hadn’t been a flighty little sh—”

“I distinctly recall warning you about touching me.” Queen interrupted the one behind her, loathing the acrid smell of cigar and cigarette smoke on the others breath.

“But I missed you! We all did!” A hand mockingly stroked her cheek, then a finger coiled a lock of snow white hair around itself, twisting it playfully. Queen focused on the one in the center, still bound to the circle. The circle which would incinerate the one in the center if harm befell its summoner.

“Your work here is done, the deal was made.” Queen didn’t order the other to leave, she wasn’t that angry yet. But she was getting there.

“Honey, I’m certain you know that’s wrong.”

“Is it?” Queen shot back at the beast. “I never requested a deal, I never gave you an offering, you have _nothing_.” She hissed the last word, and the hands once caressing her fell to the floor lifelessly. The one behind her let out a slew of curses as she stumbled back, toppling over as her sliced off leg slipped from beneath her. None saw what had carved into the one behind her, the light and speed far too optimal for whatever it was for any to spot.

“But you called me, perhaps you weren’t aware, but you asked for something to make them stop. Well? I answered your plea! I feel like I’ve been a good lord of Hell, care to be my reward?” A palm tapped the barrier, being sent back via painful jolt as Queen rested her hands on her hips, not sparing a glance at the cursing woman behind her trying to reach her cut hands with the stumps pouring ash.

“Even if that was the case, it wasn’t the intent, and there was never an offering. You did everything either according to that woman currently drinking wealth or of your own accord.”

“Aw Queen, don’t be like that!” The golden-haired woman whined, taking a few steps toward the summoner.

“Care to learn what cave floor tastes like?” Queen tilted her head toward the other, eyes devoid of all emotion aside from cold fury. “I’m sure Wheezy can tell you, it’s not pleasant. Is it, Wheezy?” Queen shifted but the one trapped caught her focus, at least most of it.

“You got away once.” The ruler of Hell spoke lowly, face shifting until only two eyes were left, bright red and biting.

“Is it getting away when you didn’t have me in the first place?”

“I don’t like when they run. And you can’t now, you leave, and this thing vanishes, and then I’ll hunt you down.” There was a dark promise in that growling alto. Queen answered with a light-hearted, saccharine chuckle.

“You know I’m not one for running, my dear.” Queen purred, matching the warning in the others voice with a coy lilt in her own.

Wheezy, giving out an angry snarl, lunged at Queen’s legs, and as she did so, the collar once binding Queen’s outside magic slipped listlessly from her throat. Queen had a tiny window to blow a kiss to the temporary captive. Before the one on the floor even touched the fabric of Queen’s cloak, Queen was gone.

***

Devil stared at the circle, waiting for it to die and release her. The hunt was on, a game that had been going on for longer than Devil’s pride would say was reaching its apex. All those years of waiting, of collecting others but never claiming the one who’d gotten her hooked on summoners in the first place. And _oh was she hooked._ She _adored_ them beyond all else.

Where all others would call upon half of her, rendering her far less imposing, summoners only ever graciously opened the doors wide for all of her. She loved it, _craved it_ , it was a fix she couldn’t get enough of when it happened. But centuries ago, when it had been abundant, she’d gotten too indulgent and testy. She stomped through weaker barriers and dragged the summoners she fancied to keep into her home. The rest, she’d leave scattered. She was intense and efficient and old enough to know the many weaknesses those new to summoning or calling upon someone such as herself. She was no lowly demon. She wasn’t some frilly ruler waving her pitchfork around like it was a sport.

The summoner who no longer graced them with her presence was supposed to have joined the rest. She was a collector of sorts, and to have a piece of that collection escape burned her gut. It infuriated her even more to see the circle show not even an ounce of wavering. The lackeys outside, summoners she’d collected over the years, weren’t noticing anything what with being distracted with trying to piece Wheezy’s hands back together and return them to their owner. Leaning down, she tried to scratch at one of the internal lines. While it would lead to her being sent straight back to Hell, it wasn’t of any consequence to her, not with her little collection already there.

Only to realize her black nail was scraping bits of the blood not hidden under the chalk. She stared at it blankly, mind piecing together what had been done. The blood from the morons she dipped into hell, who still rested below her because calling upon hell the way she did via her summoners meant as long as they were there, she couldn’t leave. That portion of hell was still directly beneath her. But if she told her pets to leave, that would immediately break the circle in a way that would send her off now that she’d scratched off a piece of the inner line. If she was sent back, after sending her pets back, there would be no one to remember where she’d been summoned and where to find the escape artist.

She barely realized she’d become an inferno of hellfire as the realization set in. It was only when she sucked in a lungful of the stuff that she calmed herself. At least enough to think. Her pets, her collection, all stared at her. Some with horror, others with confusion, and one with undiluted glee. Chimes even clapped, as if Devil had just put on a show. It was Pirouette who saw it first, but being new, he didn’t so much as emote the realization beyond a subtle widening of his eyes.

Devil began to pace like a caged tiger, furiously muttering to Hell about her predicament. Hell didn’t respond, merely continuing to hum softly. Wheezy broke into a vitriolic rant about the escape artist while hellfire sewed her flesh back together. Useless they were, Devil thought. Yet another reason she wanted the other one. The one who’d escaped once before, the one who’d bound her to a mortal before. Sure, she eventually decided the mortal wasn’t half bad, but their offspring were atrocities she gladly left to the dogs upon being freed from the vow due to a loophole she’d had to get creative to see.

An elaborate setup whose failsafes bit back with aplomb could only come from one who’d have the mind to entertain. Hell could get boring after all, even when some of those who annoyed her came crawling back with whatever they had left to weep for forgiveness. That, and she’d escaped once, the one who’d gotten her hooked escaped, and she’d be a hoity little bird on the clouds above before she let that one escape again.

Yet after five minutes, it was Hopus who caught her attention with a boisterous cackle. She pulled off her top hat, wiggled her free hand over it a few times in a circle, fingers trailing silver sparks, then she pulled her own head out. Chips gagged, crying out about how much she hated it when Hopus did that, but Devil only watched, taxed mind straining to figure out the reason for the show. Hopus, clearly noticing the lack of understanding, gave her souls owner a hearty pout, and tossed the hat away, her head flying with it until it thumped against Wheezy’s own skull. The headless body, hands now free, dramatically showed how her velvet coat’s sleeves were empty, then gestured to the head. The head that now sported a salad fork in between clenched teeth. The body casually strolled away from the head, and it was only when Wheezy, sick of the show—aimed her heel back to kick the hat away, that the body flashed out of existence, springing out from below the head, spilling out of the hat and launching at Wheezy to bury the fork in her eye.

Mangosteen let out a quiet chuckle, massive shoulders shaking with mirth. Wheezy shrieked, but Devil was already plotting to give Hopus that new stage she’d been begging for as she got Pirouettes attention. The pitchfork, bound to Hell and Devil, easily slipped away, returning to the other side simply by rebinding itself to Pirouette. Pirouette’s eyes immediately glazed over, his body shifted into a throwers position, and the pitchfork sailed out of the cave, burying itself into the ground. She waved them all away as Pirouette began vomiting hellfire. The pitchfork, only bound to Hell now, and was never considered a servant or a thing, didn’t respond to the demand, it didn’t have to, not until Devil reacquainted it with herself.

It was a blink in Hell, that was it. Enough to see Chips soothingly patting Pirouette on the back as the others magic purged itself of alien magic it couldn’t acclimate to. Then she was rising up, tines of the weapon piercing her chest, her torso parallel to the ground as she rose up, sliding along the weapon, drenching it in her blood. A thick squelch mixed with the crunch of bones, she rolled her shoulders, repairing her spine and ribs with an afterthought while picking her dear pitchfork up. Sniffing the air for the telltale scent of jasmine and myrrh, her magic reached for the one who had enticed it so.

Though there was no distinct answer, there was an annoyed bat at her magic in the distance, one she perked up at and immediately began moving towards.

Of course, her mood fell into void dark fury upon finding only traces of the witch in an empty clearing. A clearing in a forest that was near obliterated before Hell hauled her back.

***

Queen stared at the little snapdragon. Eyeless leaves and petals seemingly snarling at her same as she glared at it. She needed but a single tooth, and the wretch refused to grow even a baby tooth. She’d gone as far as pleading to it, saved from embarrassment by her garden being behind her house. It was only that and her familiar that would ever know she spoke like a mother trying to get their offspring to be cute for the photos to a leafy little shit that had hissed in return. So now she was pulling off the dainty clean gloves, and sliding on the grimy gardening gauntlets. A pulse later and the circle she’d painstakingly carved into the dirt and filled with her chalk dust flared. Her house, lacking much of any sentience, simply sat, windows wide open, watched as a forest nymph peered at the summoner, having answered quite enthusiastically. The snapdragon, about as well as any flower could, squint at the newcomer, and hissed.

“Keep acting rude, see what potions I drag up from my recipe book. Who knows, maybe one might need _snapdragon leaves._ ” Queen whispered, each word dripping with vitriol. It rustled its leaves threateningly, challengingly. She threw her hands in the air and gestured to it sharply while turning her focus to the one in the circle. Her hair was held back by a headband, her face was smeared with dirt and her apron was positively coated in grass stains from the earlier scuffle with the day lily patch. Normally, she’d have never remotely allowed a summoned guest to see her in such a state. But it was deeply known that nature entities were far more willing to be friendly if the one calling on them seemed as down to the ground as they were.

“I’ve done _everything_ the elemental witch suggested, I even got soil from _that_ dimension! But no! Not a single tooth!” She spoke, exasperation at war on her glass smooth features with the dirt. The nymph arched a vine like brow, bright orange eyes looking at her exclusively.

“And let’s not even start with the fire rat incident, I swear I’ve never been so glad for weeping willows. An…” Queen paused after a moment, realizing the nymph hadn’t so much as glanced at the pine cones and oak leaves she’d put in the center as its treat and gift for coming. Every single nymph she’d ever summoned spoke to her through mouthfuls of the stuff, but then she wondered if perhaps she hadn’t gotten the right leaves. “And I’m terribly sorry, I forgot to include the lilac leaves!” She hiked her skirts up so she could get around the hellion in the dirt to get to where she’d planted the bushes.

Later on she’d blame it on being stressed. She direly needed the teeth for a summon a guest had requested. They’d be arriving in two days and it took a day and a half to get teeth from snapdragons. But her home, eyes in more places than any could count, had seen what the snapdragon had. Her magic would be sheepishly embarrassed for a good long while afterwards, but for now, Queen was three leaves in hand before the glint of her mirror caught her eye. She looked up, entirely confused as to why her vanity would be in the sunshine when it had been in the corner before. It had angled itself to reflect behind her, at her “guest”.

Queen, quick on her feet and a master at improvisation, snatched up a few more leaves and spun, a flitting little laugh erupting from her lips. “I cannot believe you were kind enough to respond despite my mistake, truly it’s wonderful of you.” She praised, quick strides taking her back to the circle, and before her hand passed the line, she wrenched it back and smacked the fist full of leaves into her open palm.

“Daffodils! Oh for, this never happens. I feel like such a novice!” She went the other direction, grabbing up a single flower and sighing heavily. “This is why you’re being so petulant, isn’t it.” She pout to the snapdragon. The snapdragon wiggled its leaves. She nodded solemnly. “Not a single hint of belladonna to be seen either. This darling, wonderful nymph must truly be the kindest I’ve come across to answer such a novice call.” The “guest” followed her path, far closer to the edge of the circle now, a bit of confusion showing now.

She called out her mortar and pestle, pausing by the baby’s breath and dolls eyes. A fist full of each went into the mortar and she lamented her unsightly mistake to the one practically leaning on the wall of magic locking everything inside.

“If it makes things any better this isn’t as bad as the first time I’d summoned a mandrake. I’m sure you’re plenty aware how daft it is to call upon someone such as yourself when lit candles are around, but I simply had no idea mandrake was capable of such violent spontaneous combustion. It was astounding to watch!” She absently held a hand to the snapdragon, and where it’d fought her before, it readily gave up a petal and a couple sneezes of pollen into the mortar. She continued, pestle working expertly away until a sprinkle of her chalk and a pinch of salt was added. The paste turned to a powder in a flash, and she stopped right before the circle, green locked on orange.

“Such kindness deserves a reward,” She let the purr into her voice, let her tone dip into a different sort of warmth. “Such patience is unheard of in nymphs, I simply cannot let this go without presenting you with a gift.” With that, she tilted the mortar, and the wind that swept through the clearing picked the powder up.

From the treeline, Wheezy fell into a fit of heavy, wet coughs, gagging and retching. Chips floundered for air, toppling onto her ass, weakly scrabbling for anything to grab in her panic. The roof arced and dipped, and Pip and Dot were sent rolling off, where the door intercepted their fall and acted like a baseball bat, practically knocking them into the horizon. Devil gagged, furiously clawing at her disguise until her flesh peeled right off her skull.

“Intruders aren’t welcome, certainly not the likes of which who keep Wheezy’s company.” Queen huffed as her garden began to roll up like a rug. “The game grew boring right about the time you sent an imp to stalk me back further than I care to remember. I’ve had more fun beating a siren in a singing contest than this little runaround. So,” She crossed her arms over her chest as her house began to groan and twist, shrinking itself rapidly. Roots erupted from the ground, shoving the two intruders towards, then into the circle, where the heat from Hell began to brew. Queen scowled with distaste, a deep emerald gleam of disdain in her biting gaze.

“Find some new partner to play with, _my darling._ ”

Devil got her eyes open enough, the third one on her forehead watering from residual dust pouring into it from the wildly roiling bangs around it. It was only due to this that she’d know it wasn’t the house that let out the unbelievably sharp crack. It was, however, the elm tree. The very same that smashed down on them with all the fury an enchanted house possessing the elm tree its doorways had been made from could hold. Which was far more than she or the rest had thought.

Hell got her and the rest back. While Pip and Dot had to be scraped off a rock face by Mangosteen, Hopus had to piece Wheezy and Phear had to repair Chips. Devil was ferried off in a mess of bones, flesh, meat and hair. Hardly even recognizable anymore outside the signature curls, to her private room. And despite having Hell aiding her in her healing, it took four weeks to truly correct the damage the powder and elm delivered onto her.

***

“Why are we trying for this one in particular? There are so many other summoners we could gift to Boss, why settle for an ungrateful one?” Pirouette asked. All the rest were sat around the grimy pseudo bar, with a greasy table stained to an unrecognizable patchwork of misery as his arms resting place. He was new, unfamiliar with whatever history was had between their beloved Boss and the flighty little escape artist above.

Perhaps it was because he was surrounded by summoners who knew the worth of being desired by the beast of sin, but to flee instead of fall before? He couldn’t understand her reasonings. Why, all around him had either willingly sacrificed themselves or thought they could outsmart their Boss. Wheezy in particular had told them repeatedly of the times she’d almost bested Devil in an arm-wrestling contest. She’d claimed she’d called upon Devil to test her merit as well as her magic, but she held that same gleam in her coal dark eyes as everyone else around him. There was a want so strong it overrode common sense.

For every book and witch and familiar and beastie warning not to summon the one they were housed by, they ignored it purely for a desire. Pirouette had long since stopped cringing every time his metal ankles creaked, finding it comforting instead. A sign that though their Boss had a temper, she was just as quick and wonderfully creative in her apology gifts. Honestly, to flee when their Boss thrice far had offered a peaceful hand. And while it made Pirouette sick to try to see the reason from their Bosses point of view, he simply couldn’t help but think, then ask when nothing came to mind.

“Firefly.” Martini answered. The trio were the eldest in Devil’s possession, and had seen much more than the rest. But getting understandable chatter from them not peppered with drunken ramblings was nigh impossible. Not unless they offered it up. Martini swirled his drink, not heeding how when he stood to his full height, his sleeve remained glued to the table until a stumble ripped it from the sticky spills decorating the unknown wooden surface.

“She’s Boss’s firefly. A true show of prowess and a clear sign that none escape. She’s done it, so others have thought they too could. Ain’t that right Chimes!” All that he got in reply was a mad cackle, one that had Pirouette curling up on his chair, far from comfortable around the unstable thing.

“Imagine being called from your room, all the way to the deeper pits of hell, so that you can open a jar of pickles. That’s what that one did to Boss, at least in Bosses eye.” Wheezy tapped the glass before her. The blue flames dancing along her flesh, but doing nothing else to the eternally burning summoner. She’d long since stopped trying to drink the stuff, not when it just set her on fire and made the rest chase her out of the gloomy building. Marble floors were meaningless when left to collect every spot of grime available. Imps weren’t known for wiping their feet before wandering around the structures of Hell.

“Here she is being summoned for the first time in a while, and its for some prissy little future king. This arm candy does all the talkin, all the sweet silver-tongued gabbing. And just when Boss thinks she’s got another to add to the collection? She finds the summoner can’t be caught! Queen’s good at that. A master of loopholes and twists.”

“Not shed a drop of blood or magic before Boss.” Mangosteen piped up, “Can’t bind what aint offered.”

Chips, only older to the collection than Pirouette by a few hundred years, leaned closer, just as intrigued.

“Boss has her peculiarities course, if she wants a canary, we’ll get her one.” Pip spoke up. The twins were practically chomping at the bit to get topside and drag the escapee piece by piece down with the rest of them.

“If she doesn’t want Bosses’ presence, why do we not just find a better gift?” Pirouette pressed.

“If they don’t have Bosses’ permission, they don’t last more than three seconds free in Hell. Imps _love_ dragging trespassers away. We could find the perfect, prettiest, most eye-catching gift out there, but the second they stepped foot in these halls, Hell would treat them like a heathen in a plague frenzied town. They’d die before Boss would even know what we’d done.”

“We’ve tried it before.” Dot lazily waved a hand, pressing the ice-cold glass to his bare neck in an effort to cool down. It would have been more effective to just move away from Wheezy, but he liked the seat he was in, and his sister was using his lap as a pillow. He wasn’t keen on shoving her off and starting a fight.

“Boy did that fella scream.” Pip added, tapping her foot against the wall, uncaring of the squelching noise every time the sole of her shoe hit the soaked wallpaper.

“It was only for three seconds.” Dot countered. “I counted. Or Chimes did, can’t remember!” He shifted his leg and received a vicious glare and a hearty smack on his arm for his transgression.

“We know she has permission, so she’s who we’ll be coming after when we get the all clear.” Wheezy spoke with a tone of finality, cracking the bottom of her glass on the table. Liquor splashed out, spilling over her hand and immediately bursting into flame. The trio cursed, Chips shrieked as her shirt caught fire, and Chimes laughed heartily.

***

Queen stirred the potion, an unsure scowl on her smooth features. She arched a brow at the sludge in the pot, mentally cursing herself for not just breaking out the cauldron. A hassle to clean it might have been, she was fairly certain a potion meant to remove stains wasn’t supposed to look like one itself. Still, she had one hour of stirring left, so she tapped the toe of her kitten heel against the foot of the stove, it’s fire died down a bit, and she resumed the methodical stirring motions.

Frankly, making such a thing hadn’t been on her schedule, but it was necessary. Her dear home was tired from the recent move and to have a violent intruder so soon only exhausted it further. Her beloved guardian didn’t have the strength to remove the blood stains and she was loathe to let it wallow in someone elses filth.

It was when the potion started smoking that she returned from her thoughts. Panicking, she raced to the door, pot in hand, ripping it open and not bothering to check before launching the sparking thing as hard as she could away from the house. It gave off a ground shaking explosion not twelve seconds later, sending two trees toppling over and seemingly half the forest scattering in fright. Standing in the doorway, she heaved a sigh.

“Too much wormwood. I _knew_ that heaping spoonful was _too heaping._ ” She snapped under her breath. And she’d have to retrieve the pot, something she wasn’t keen on doing after likely angering a few nearby forest entities. Her only luck was that she hadn’t sent it towards the stream behind the house. She’d take an angry leaf spirit over a vitriolic water sprite _any day_.

Patting the doorframe, she trudged out, not bothering to remove her apron. She doubted anyone was close enough to care at her less than pristine state anyway.

A doubt that was proven wrong the moment she hit the treeline and had her hair snatched up in a far too tight grip. She barely got a surprised squeak out before she felt cold iron press to her throat.

“ _First you steal my sister away, then you try to kill me?_ ” A voice so steeped in seething hatred it rankled her nerves just hearing it spoke directly into her ear. She choked on a reply, swallowing a retort that would surely have her sporting a nasty wound. She felt the fist in her hair tighten, but her fists remained at her side, unsure if moving even a finger would set the man off.

His chest was heaving, sucking in gulps of oxygen to stoke and feed the fire of hateful wrath burning in him. His whole body shook, strained under the intensity of his emotion as he suddenly let her go and spun her around. Queen let out a wheeze as she was slammed into an oak tree, bark biting into her bare back. Her dress shifted under her, straining to change to better protect the magic forming her flesh.

“My sister, where is she.” He demanded, there was no question in his voice.

“I’ll need more than that.” She replied, voice steady despite the heavy grip around her throat.

“A little under a year ago, my sister and her group came to you. I know, because she wrote about it. She went missing, everyone else went missing, and I couldn’t find you. Where is she, witch!”

Queen’s fingers wrapped around the wrist of the hand pinning her throat. She thought back, trying to remember any groups, until an ill fated one came to mind. He must have seen it too because he threw her to the ground and stomped on her stomach. Had she the innards, she’d have been sobbing from the agony of her organs being violently assaulted. As it was, she just lost the ability to breathe for a moment.

“You do know! Where is she!” He shouted, leaning his weight on her, keeping her pinned.

“Where she wants to be.” Queen gasped out.

“ _Lies. You bring her back.”_ He fell to a knee beside her, shoving the blade at her face.

“This is the worst—” Queen choked back a groan and continued, “worst way to request a summon.” She coughed. He scrambled to dig into his sweat soaked shirt, tearing a damp cloth from somewhere south of his armpit and put it right in front of her face. She, in that moment, felt such loathing for the troublesome summon who’d she’d thought she’d brushed her hands free of all that time ago, she lost the ability to think.

“It isn’t a request. I want her back, so you’re going to bring that thing back out and get her back for me.” He spoke like he’d said that sentence countless times, likely before a mirror, getting himself pumped for assaulting a witch in the woods and making her summon something that would have every other sane witch in the area sprinting away from. Queen, staring at a sweat soaked circle crudely etched into the grimy cloth, was far from impressed.

“If you want me to call that one, this isn’t going to be enough.”

“I lost the goat I was going to sacrifice in that explosion you threw at me.” He snapped, and the blade dug into her neck. “Now call the thing!”

“Blood! I need your blood!” Queen shot back, mind racing, magic hissing.

“Why not yours? I need a sacrifice, why not you?” He responded, and she fought to speak through the blindsiding anger.

“I need the one who wants her to come to offer blood, there are no required sacrifices, just the knowledge that you’ll be toying with a beast over family that didn’t so much as mention you or care for you when she went and made her dealings with that one. I have no desire to see that festering ball of hair again, it won’t work if my blood is used.” She got out, and he drew his hand back. Then he drove the knife into his hand, drenching the cloth in bright crimson. Droplets rained down on her, and she immediately began to make plans to visit the nearest hot spring.

He shrieked in agony, teeth clacking shut and grinding as he soaked the cloth and rolled her over onto her back. Pressing back down on her with his foot, he threw the circle down in front of her, silent in his demands. Her magic crackled in the air, a bit of chalk dust sprinkled onto the circle, infusing it with her magic. While etching the circle into the ground was most often preferred, it was entirely possible to summon something via sheet of paper or cloth. Some would call upon small entities that way, and as long as the thing with the circle on it remained unharmed, the creature was bound as if within a circle on the ground rather than above them where the cloth began to float. The light from the sun hit it, flashing through the fabric and the circle was projected onto the grass below.

His weight shifted, and she grit her teeth, fighting the indignation while her magic did its thing. Something made all the easier when the subject was beyond eager to reply.

The shadows licked at the edge of the circle, reaching and straining for Queen’s prone form. Searing eyes, six in number, looked between the downed witch and the man who reeked of desperation pinning her. Queen didn’t reply, too busy with keeping the litany of curse words that wanted out as the man shifted again in awe.

“Y-you… She…she did it…” He whispered reverently. Devil stared down at him, one side of her mouth coiling in a furious, disgusted sneer.

“Darling.” Queen’s voice was a rough, breathy gasp, but it gained the other’s focus immediately. As if a siren had cooed to her. “Your fans are _impossible._ ” She finished, no longer clawing at the dirt to escape his weight on her spine. She just looked up at Devil tiredly, hair a mess of tangles and dirt, stained green in places.

“My sister!” The man shouted, mind returning in a snap. The stone-faced grey skinned woman turned a lone eye his way, the rest remained on the one beneath him.

“Fulfilling her deal.” Was all Devil replied with, voice deep and rumbling, like hundreds were speaking at the same time.

“Where is she? Shouldn’t she—” The ground right below Devil cracked open just enough for animalistic howls of undiluted pain to tear apart the otherwise quiet clearing. The man’s pallid face dropped in horror, disbelief that the thing making such noises could even be human spilling into his gaunt face.

“Fulfilling her deal.” Devil repeated, a dark undertone brewing in the budding snarl her lips curled into.

“Give her back. Make it give her back” He turned to the one below him. Queen wordlessly shook her head until the blade buried itself inches from her face. “I want my sister back! That isn’t what she wanted!”

“Then go put a knife to her!” Queen rasped out, feeling the circle fight to contain something cotton simply wasn’t powerful enough to corral for long.

“She’s bathing in wealth; it is what she wanted.” Devil, to outsiders, might appear surprisingly patient and kind, freely giving up answers without a moment’s hesitation. And to one as desperate as him, it was all he heard. He didn’t hear the warnings, the growls, the hissing laughter from the denizens of hell lurking in the shadows.

“Please, what can I do to get her back?”

“Offer something in return.”

Queen fell deathly still, face turning empty and cold. _That_ was why Devil was doing what she was. Being uncharacteristically forthcoming with information, showing off the punished one below her. A carrot on a stick for a prize she hadn’t obtained yet. The man, not catching on, floundered.

“But I lost the goat…”

“I would have killed you by now if you offered a paltry goat. No, if you want your sister back, you’ll need something that can at least match the value.”

“ _Don’t.”_ Queen spoke in a tone devoid of all but a thick warning. Her eyes were locked onto Devils’, unreadable through the glacial levels of fury. And it was then he truly looked around and down, understanding dawning on his face. He clearly hadn’t wanted to sacrifice himself. The thought to throw himself at her feet and beg for her to return his sister never crossing his mind. Desperate as he was, an equally powerful urge to survive and stay safe from the unnatural thing practically sending his soul itself cowering kept him from even speaking of such a trade.

He grabbed Queen up by her hair, dragging her to her feet, heedless of the cold, dense feeling rippling off of her. “Have this one then, but I want to see my sister first.” A mortal who believed themselves to have a bargaining chip in hand was usually one of Devils favorite things. Ones who thought the game was still going in their favor often made the best mistakes.

“ _Don’t you dare._ ” Queen didn’t seethe, she didn’t shake with fury. She never took her eyes off of Devil’s, even when she’d wanted to close them as she’d been lifted and manhandled. To think Devil would try and take the easy way out was unbelievable to the summoner. She herself had grown bored of the game she’d thought ended so long ago, but to see a cheap route used…

From below, just in front of Devil, a form coated in liquid gold burst out of the bright sea, bone and skin warred under the metal, patches of skin struggling to slough off while bone fought to keep attached to tendons and muscle long charred to charcoal. The mouth, the jaw really, remained hanging open in a petrified scream of pain, vocal chords surviving only because Hell loved to hear the screams of regret petered out to weak gasps of gargled anguish.

The man lost himself for a moment, letting go of Queen’s hair and stumbling forward, reaching numbly for his sister. “I…” He weakly cleared his throat, heedless of the hand going past the circle’s barrier into the lions den. Devil however, didn’t move. A breeze caught a few of the leaves.

But not all of them, and none of the grass, and nowhere else.

“Oh my beloved sister, what has become of you…”

Later, Queen would laugh at herself, a bit miffed she’d forgotten that the man had no ability to truly offer her up like a lamb to the beast. But for now, so infuriated and uncomfortable and filthy that she was, she simply forgot herself. The man touched a golden hand, head and shoulders past the circle.

“Take the witch, I don’t care, just—” And before he could finish—something Queen found immediate relief in as no deal meant no trade. His body made an odd squelching noise as his waist split from his lower half just above the hip. He gargled, his eyeless sister drooled solidifying gold. He collapsed, the arm outside the circle cut to ribbons, no longer capable of supporting his weight. Devil’s heel stomped on his head, crushing it, using it as a bridge, a break in the circle. Before Queen could even try to move away, one set of arms coiled around her waist, another lovingly rubbing circles between her shoulder blades, and a third cupping her face. The man sank into Hell, pieces splashing down into the pool. Once again, the sister was given the ability to wail, and the suffering began anew.

“Low, sniveling, wretched waste of magic.” Queen grabbed at one of the hands on her waist, another on her cheek.

“How’d you guess what Hell’s pet name for me is?” Devil purred.

“No deal was made, you can kindly remove your hands, _now._ ”

“One who called me is dead, I’m here on my own dime now.” Devil’s eyes curved, glee bright in the red inferno of her irises. “But speaking of which… let’s play a game, my dear little summoner. I’ll start,” Her hair shifted, and a seventh hand emerged from the curtain, holding a squirming three of clubs. 

“ _Got any threes?”_ Queen’s eyes flew wide, a new emotion flooding into them, purging the fury, replacing it with cold fear. Her grip tightened on the heated skin below her gloves, her grip nothing to the one grinning like the cat who finally caught the canary. The mark of Queen’s familiar shone on her throat, lighting up from her distress.

“Don’t…” Queen stopped herself just before she choked out whatever plea came to mind.

“You don’t? Well I suppose this is useless then!” Devil began to tear the card, and then her face was held between soothingly cool palms and soft lips were pressed to hers. She froze, six eyes taking in the thick white lashes hiding bright green eyes. Queen pulled away a moment later, her hands remaining in place.

“Three hundred years. I’m yours for three hundred years as long as no harm comes to my familiar.” Queens lips brushed against Devil’s, a satin balm to Devils’ chapped own. Queen pressed herself as close to Devil as she could, melting into the arms almost adoringly.

Later, Devil would bang her head on a desk for letting the slight victory blind her. But now, she sealed it with another kiss, and as the circle died, as the house bound to Queen returned to her, a new storage rune containing it and all in it blooming on her back, Hell rose around them.

**Author's Note:**

> Redid it like ten times. Settled. Partner story to be arriving soon. Wheee!  
> 


End file.
